


The Box

by SunriseUtopian



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Original Work
Genre: 6.66, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Everyone hates Pandora's Box, Except Lilith, F/F, F/M, Jean studied Greek Mythology, M/M, Monotheism, Pandora is the last person you want to comfort you, Pandora just wanted to get laid, Pandora wants to throw her box out of an airlock, Pandora's Box, People die horrific deaths, repeatedly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5402018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseUtopian/pseuds/SunriseUtopian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Open the box, she said. It'll be fun, she said." There was a reason that damn box was sealed up after my first dibacle with it. But did Lilith listen. No. Did she convince me opening the box would be a good idea. No. Did I open it anyways because I wanted to get laid? Yes. Did I get laid? No, no I did not. Did I become part of a random science experiment stuck in a staion in the middle of space? Yes. Has any of the greek pantheon fucked with the box? Aphrodite might have but probably because she hasn't fucked a box before. Have I realized that the most fearsome god isn't even apart of the Greek pantheon? Unfortunately. Is said god beyond pissed? Undoubtedly. Did said god wipe some of my memories? Honestly I don't really care, all I care about right now is closing that god damned box before any other Resident Evil rejects come out of it. And if the box is here Lilith is too. Maybe I can get laid before I off her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Box

It was official. If there was some higher power that the religious masses turn to for guidance in times of great strife and/or need, then that deity is the biggest asshole in the entire universe.

    Next thing you'll know: aliens walk among us and are systematically tearing down the very foundations of all governments and replacing it with mass brainwashing assimilations. Chanting in monotonous unison ‘Join Us’, like the little green aliens in Toy Story. Fucking creepy.

     Pulled from her thoughts as the chain that connected the metal shackles on her wrists, feet and neck was violently pulled up. Choking as the collar tightened with a vengeance as socked feet were raised from the ground. The echoing screams from the other test subjects reverberating around the sterile, claustrophobic hallways. The prisoner's vision began to blacken and her shackled feet flailed uselessly as the cuffed hands tore at the collar in a vain desperation.

      Were once there was the slow death strangulation, there was now precious oxygen getting gathered into straining lungs. Dropping into an ungraceful heap onto cool white tile, the prisoner laid her shaved head onto the tile curling in on herself in an attempt to escape her living nightmare.

     Ears ringing, brown eyes watering, cuffed hands clasping at the metal collar around her neck; she listened, random voices rising in volume as tempers flared in a dizzying crescendo. Only able to pick out certain words: “Last”, “mutations”, “feral” and “six”; before a pair boots attached to feet walked in her line of sight.

    Latex gloves grabbing the prisoner around the back of her neck feeling the raised skin from where the tracker chip and nitric acid capsule were buried under the skin and embedded into the muscle at the base of her skull.   

    More words were spoken between her guard and the apparent researcher. Mouth so dry she could feel her tongue cracking. Not able to bring forth any saliva to at least moisten her parched throat, the prisoner listened.

    “Subject Sixty-one, is the only subject to have survived being in close proximity to The Box, and who has shown no visible sign of ferality.”

    There was some subtle rustling of clothes and a not so subtle kick to the ribs. Gasping in pain Subject Sixty-one , doubled over pain and fear lacing together as the guard jerked on the chain. Forcing her to rise unsteadily to her feet before getting a knee to her chin. The force of the hit knocking her back onto her left side.

     Running her bloodied tongue over rotted and rotting teeth, before spitting out the only tooth that hadn't yet been affected by poor hygiene. Staring at the tooth in shock Subject Sixty-one’s shoulders began to tremble. Her lip twitching spontaneously as if trying to hold back a sob or laughter.

     The latex gloved man swallowed thickly as the prisoner went from being sub-human to being an actual monster. Watching as she shakily stood on her own brown eyes that were once so dilated that you couldn't see the iris, were now alight with vengeful thirst that couldn't be quenched and it was all directed towards the guard who pushed Sixty-one too far and the researcher who thought she wasn't human enough to care.

     Head cocked to the side maniacal smile stretching ear to ear showcasing rotting teeth and blackened gums. Chains the were used to bind her falling around her with a loud _CLACK, CLACK,CLACK_. The metal shackles around her feet were gone, then was the metal band around her neck. The last restraint to fall was the one around her wrists exposing the bloodied but legible:

      ‘ **SUBJECT 61: HANDLE WITH EXTREME CAUTION** ’.

      Eyes moving up her body visibly paling as he sees the keyring, that must have been on the guard, hanging carelessly on Sixty-one’s pointer finger.

    Turning towards the guard, the researcher took an uneasy step back watching in horror as the guards skin turned red and began to form lumps that would move. Horror turned to nausea as the lumps clamored further upwards, the guard started to gag hands trembling uselessly by his sides as if shackled by some invisible force.

     As if reading his thoughts the guard looked at the researcher. Fear, anger, resentment so palpable in the air it was nearly tangible. Staring into the eyes of the guard, the researcher felt as if he was staring into his own reflection. Lifting his hands with them feeling as if they were also shackled to the ground, the researcher started to panic. Head forced to look in the direction of the guard. The guards flesh began to pop and sizzle, before peeling away and floating gracefully to the ground.

      Feeling his mouth start to open on its own accord the researcher felt as if hands were holding his mouth open. The researcher began to scream as he felt his upper molars begin to slowly be pulled out.

      One by one. Working slowly but steadily, as the researcher screamed and the guard gurgled as his blood vessels and arteries crackled filling his mouth with his own blood and bile.

     Neither men noticing black shadows wrapping around them. Sixty-one stopped smiling as she saw the creatures that the shadows were harboring.

      Pale, alabaster skin that looked as if it was stretched over an anatomy class dummy. Nude androgynous bodies with a pentagram carved into its chest cavity which was still dripping fresh black blood. Fingers elongated into claws with the shadows weaving in and out like a cat starved for attention. Around its wrist was a similar hospital band ‘ **SUBJECT 22: FAILURE** ’. Sixty-one's eyes snapped back to its face, a lipless mouth that literally started at one ear and stretching to the other. Skin covering where eyes would normally be on a human.

     Subject twenty-two eerily cocked its head to the side as it watched its hapless victims torment themselves into insanity. Prowling it made its way towards the guard, lipless mouth open so wide it looked like an armed bear trap, mouth full of row after row of serrated teeth.

      Fuck. This. Shit.

     Sixty-one turned and ran. Sprinting as fast as she could barrelling into guards, test subjects and researchers alike. The central alarm blaring at a high pitch, as pounding was heard from the door. _THUD, THUD, THUD._

     Not even pausing in her escape, the chorus of screams playing on repeat in her mind as she ran into the Test Subjects mess hall. Sliding to a stop Sixty-one watched in rapt attention as some of her fellow test subjects began clutching their shaved heads and started to scream in blood chilling agony.

     Swallowing the blood in her mouth Sixty-one ran into the kitchen. Eyes scanning the area she spotted a package of bottled water, grabbing a knife from the counter behind her and stabbed at the plastic wrapping covering the bottles of water. Scouring the kitchen for provisions Sixty-one found a brown cloth napsac, smiling as she reached for it she paused light reflecting strangely off of a metallic surface.

     Snarling Sixty-one brought up her knife to block an attacker. Brown eyes locked with green, before throwing her body weight against her attacker and knocking them to the ground. Stradling a slim waist Sixty-one pressed her knife against the bared throat. For the first time in however long she had been here Sixty-one spoke.

     “Who the fuck are you.”

      A blonde eyebrow rose as full lips pulled into a mocking smile, blonde hair surrounding the pinned girls head like a halo. Sixty-one had a gut feeling that giving this girl a halo comparison is more than a little ironic.

      “Me? Shouldn't you be more concerned about who you are?”  

       Sixty-one pressed the sharpened blade deeper into the blonde's throat. All the blonde did however was roll her emerald eyes, which Sixty-one was grudgingly impressed by.

       “You know you really take the fun out of everything. Fine you want to know who I am? Here.” The blonde held out her left wrist to Sixty-one, the hospital band displaying in bold letters.

        **SUBJECT 17: CONTROL**

       “Control?”

       Seventeen laughed light and airy with a hint of a mocking undertone. “Mmhm, I forgot that group six wasn't allowed to socialize with the other groups or each other. It might ‘contaminate’ the results.” Seventeen giggled behind her hand. “Who would have thought that the only person from group six to come out sane would be the one who not only already had a few screws missing but was also one wrong step away from a straight jacket.”

       Glaring at Seventeen, Sixty-one opened her mouth to demand more answers but stopped when screech pierced the air. Head snapping in the direction of the sound. When she looked back Seventeen was staring at her, an expectant look on her girlish face. “I'm curious of what you fear more; Life or death. Either way, you’re going to have to choose. After all they did open your box.”

      Twisting around only to get thrown across the room hitting a wall. Looking up to see a Subject mid-transformation as the still had eyes. Hands elongated in dangerous talons that screeched against metal like nails on a chalkboard. Feeling around for the knife she had, Sixty-one enclosed her fist around the handle as the actual monster leapt for her throat.

        Ducking under the monster Sixty-one rolled to her feet palming the butcher knife in one hand as she held up her other towards Seventeen. Stopping the blonde in her tracks, as the monster's head turned towards Seventeen, Sixty-one flailed her knife hand sporadically. Watching the monster stop and lunge once again for Sixty-one.

     Expecting it Sixty-one grabbed the left shoulder of the monster and brought the knife down in with all of the built up anger and resentment she was feeling, right in its head. Watching with malicious glee as the claws that would have decapitated her fell uselessly to its sides.

     Leaning against the door Seventeen let out a low whistle, before sending Sixty-one a conspiratorial smile. “Hot damn. I now know why you're ‘handle with extreme caution’. Since you just saved my ass, my name is Jean. We are going to have so. Much. Fun. I can just feel it.”

      Smirking at the blonde Sixty-one responded in kind.

      “Pandora, now where did you say my box was?”

        

  
         


End file.
